The air is hot after the sun setssummer evenings pull me in.Nightlife, for once, is fun.Joys in conversations,magic in poetry,and unexpected shocks,reminders of loved ones.The sliver of the moontowards the eastlights the drive home,daylight lingers softy,peace is welcomed.
Tag Archives: summer
boating season
Summer has settled in the airalong the shore I watch the boatsgo by on the coast’tis the season for observationI watch closely as the hazecomes then fades in the distanceof the day.
Happiness is
a good bookmy niece’s laughthe sound of the oceanthe color of flowersphases of the moonmusic I play on repeatfuzzy socks on a cold morningfirst cup of coffeea healthy smoothiequiet hourslong conversationsbig questions with no answersaccepting things wholeheartedlyfinishing a poem
Summer Days
In the field of flowersa distant memory of summera photo from my mothera gift from the futurefrom the southern hemisphere the pure joy of flowerstheir colors light upunder the cloudy daythe warmth of weatherallows them to staya delight I admirea pure warmth ofmy soul as snowfalls out my windowin the present.
Limbo
Late summer hangs in limbo,cold air floats in on the water.The sun reminds me what will soonexist only in my memories. So I soak upevery walk I can get while remindingmyself to remain present, it’s a beautifullife, the heaviness is only as much asI choose to carry it.
Transition
Mornings whenthe sun shines redamong the hazefrom fires northof the borderI sit at my deskstare at the oceanfeeling the transitionas summer slips awayinto the memoriesI will only half-remember… I see the temperaturedropped to degreesI haven’t seensince spring.
daily practice
look uplook outtouch grasssmell airsee waveslaugh hardstay latestart earlybreathe deepwear socksgo barefootfeel warmthknow yourselfaccept yourselfbe weirdfeel emotionsfree yourselffrom thecage youfind yourselfin thedaily practiceof reality
Sturgeon Moon
Two evenings beforethe sturgeon moonI saw this sightthat left me in awe.I headed towardsthe ocean in search ofmaybe seeing a mirrorto make sense of whatI was feeling.Joy floating through my veins –catching up witha dear friend,slowing down aftera busy few months,the significance ofnew possibilities thatcould await meif I so choose.
Postcards
Your postcards now hangin my living room,I took two of them off the wallin your kitchen,moved them downthe roadwhere I seethe ocean whileI write this poem.The middle onewas by your bedsidewhen you died.I look at themand see allthe memories,all the summersI came hometo see youwhere I now callmy own.I carry your lovein your handwritingwith meContinue reading “Postcards”
Observations From A Quiet Morning
Listening to the birds singI drink my morning coffeeI will not finish.I wrestle my thoughtscalming them down the waya teacher tries to get1st graders attention“Shhhhh, if everyone speaksall at once, no one will be heard.”
Kelly Severseike 